All during the foregoing exchange, I could feel Diesel becoming more and more restless. The tension in the room had mounted steadily, ever since Singletary began telling me his story. Now, with this open hostility, he was not happy. He climbed down from the windowsill and crowded against my legs. I rubbed his head to try to reassure him. He began to relax.
The mayor came forward and sank wearily into the chair Singletary had vacated. Beck Long hovered over her.
“Mama, what are we going to do? We can’t let him run around and start telling people those lies.”
“Find a chair and sit down,” Mrs. Long said in a sharp tone. “I will take care of it, like I always do.” She turned to me. “Mr. Harris, have you had a chance to read through the diary I brought you yesterday?”
Was I supposed to pretend the nasty scene hadn’t happened? I couldn’t help but admire the mayor’s cool in the face of such unpleasantness. At the same time, I was not much impressed with her son.
“No, Your Honor, I haven’t,” I said. “I was able, however, to scan all the pages to create a digital copy. My plan for today is to read through it.”
“You’re not going to let anybody else have a copy of the file, are you?” Beck Long stared hard at me.
“If the family chooses to have the diary remain private for now, then no, I won’t let anyone else have a copy of it,” I said. “Perhaps it might be better for me to return the diary to you, along with a copy of the scan, so that you can decide whether you want the contents known. Frankly, if I were to read it and find evidence to support Mr. Singletary’s allegations, I would be in an awkward spot—and I prefer not to be.”
Beck Long started to speak, but his mother held up her hand. He closed his mouth and leaned back in his chair, his expression sulky.
“No, Mr. Harris, my husband decided to share these diaries, and we are not going to renege on that agreement now. I cannot believe you will find anything to substantiate that wild story Mr. Singletary has come up with. Frankly, the sooner the contents are public knowledge, the better. Singletary may be sorry he ever wanted to know what’s in them. His family have been lazy, good-for-nothing whiners for generations.” Her face hardened. “I’m tired of them blaming the Longs for their troubles.”
Beck brightened during his mother’s speech. By the time she finished he was grinning and nodding his head. “That’s it, Mama,” he said. “We’ll show those lousy Singletarys a thing or two.”
Thus far during the state senate campaign I had not heard any speech given by Beck Long. I had a feeling I hadn’t missed anything significant, were I to judge by his remarks to his mother and Singletary. Could he really be as dim-witted as he sounded this morning?
The mayor ignored her son’s comment. “How long do you think it will take you to read through it?”
I shrugged. “Barring unforeseen complications, I should think sometime today. When I examined the first volume the other day, I found the handwriting easy enough to decipher.”
“Excellent.” Mrs. Long smiled as she rose. “Come along, Beck. We should let Mr. Harris get on with it. I’ll discuss with you later, Mr. Harris, about getting a transcript made of the diaries.”
I stood to bid the Longs good-bye. Diesel climbed back onto the windowsill. He seemed not at all interested in either the mayor or her son. Perhaps he was still uneasy from all the tension, though it had rapidly dissipated.
Seated once more, I turned to the computer to retrieve the files I had made of the scans. The scanner was high resolution, so I anticipated little trouble reading the pages, as long as I had scanned them properly.
The mayor’s confidence in the diary’s contents impressed me. After I thought about it a moment, I decided she might have read at least this one volume before she brought it to me.
If her confidence were misplaced and I did find something damaging or incriminating, I would of course inform Mrs. Long. After that, what could I do?
I had no quick and easy answer to that question—particularly if the incriminating information somehow connected to the present-day murder of Marie Steverton. I would face that situation if it occurred.
In the meantime, I was more eager than ever to read, and I settled into my chair and started on the first page. One advantage of reading the pages from scans was the ability to increase the size. With the diary itself I’d have had to use a magnifying glass. In this case the computer made things much easier.
With the enlargement I found Rachel Long’s handwriting not at all difficult to read. The fact that the pages were in such excellent condition helped as well. The ink seemed clearer from what I remembered of the other volumes.
Rachel had a chatty, informal style that reminded me a bit of Mary Chesnut’s diary. There was a sense of immediacy, almost as if Rachel were recording things right as they happened, rather than afterward.
The first entry, dated March 9, 1861, was exactly two months after Mississippi seceded from the Union, the second state to do so. South Carolina went first, I remembered. Rachel wrote:
Mr. Lincoln became President five days ago, though of course he is not OUR president. That honor has fallen to Mr. Jefferson Davis, and we in Mississippi are proud that this fine man is from our state. I believe, and in this Mr. Long concurs with me, that Mr. Davis will prove himself worthy.
She went on to express the typical Southern bravado, that if war broke out it would indeed end quickly, thanks to the fine men of the South who could outfight their Northern counterparts easily.
In the early stages they believed it little more than a game, or so I had always thought. Johnny Reb would whip the North quickly, and the South would go on its merry way as a newly formed and separate nation. Five years—and hundreds of thousands of deaths and other casualties—later, the Union was stitched back together.
I read steadily for the next half hour, fascinated by Rachel’s observations of daily life. The mood in the South remained euphoric, even after the incident at Fort Sumter in mid-April 1861.
In an entry dated May 26, 1861, Rachel noted news that the Union Army had crossed the Potomac and captured Alexandria, Virginia. Rachel expressed confidence that the city would soon be retaken by Confederate troops.
Two days later she made her first mention of the Singletary family.
Word has reached us that our wretched neighbor, Mr. Jasper Singletary, has once again fallen ill with his heart troubles. Though he is certainly the most quarrelsome and obstinate creature that Our Dear Lord ever placed upon this earth, I cannot wish him to suffer, for then his poor wife and children will have even less. I have upon occasion visited with Mrs. Vidalia Singletary, and she is a sweet but timid creature, and I fear that she is used most roughly by her husband. Mr. Singletary would no doubt suffer another fit of apoplexy were he to discover that I have sometimes taken food to give to his wife. I cannot bear the sight of those wretched little children with their bony knees and dirty faces.
I sat back and rubbed my eyes, already tired from gazing at the screen so intently for more than thirty minutes. This last entry certainly showed Rachel Long in a positive light. Her charitable interest in the Singletary children spoke well of her, and there was no indication thus far that she bore the least ill will toward the family.
Diesel saw me stretching, and he stretched as well. I got up from the chair and walked back and forth between the desk and the door a few times. The office phone rang while I was walking.
“Hello, Charlie,” Kanesha Berry said. “I have some news for you. I’m pretty sure I know who took those diaries from your office.”